The Wonderful Wizard
by Soleya
Summary: Season 8. Being in charge of the SGC was boring. Usually.
1. Chapter 1

I've gotten so many nice reviews, I guess I'll keep clearing out those stories that have been sitting around forever. There are more...

I own nothing, but this would totally happen.

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The Wonderful Wizard  
by Soleya

"So, in short, sir, it was all caused by a wrong fuse, and the circuit shorted, and that's what caused the-"

"Short circuit?" General Jack O'Neill raised an unamused eyebrow at the young technician in front of him, wondering vaguely how a man of such a small stature could work the word "short" into a sentence that many times without giving himself a complex.

"Yes, sir," the airman said quickly. "But it's fixed now. I promise."

Somehow, 'I promise' wasn't particularly reassuring. But the kid was young. "So no more MALPs going defunct off world? You're sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." When had he started caring? Being in charge sucked. "Well, prep it for SG-13, then."

The sudden, escalating whoop of the klaxons and the chevrons on the massive Stargate behind him interrupted him before he even made it to the blast door. "Unauthorized off world activation!" Walter announced.

Maybe he should have run to the control room, but it seemed easier – after the day he'd had – to just stay where he was, glancing up at the technicians through the glass. They'd tell him what he needed to know.

"It's SG-1, sir."

Yep, that was all he needed. "Open the iris. And get a medical team in here," he ordered. They weren't due back for several hours, and early arrivals could be just as bad as late ones.

The massive metal plates spiraled open, the almost blinding light from the event horizon weaving and shifting throughout the room. But it stayed that way for a long time, soft, undisturbed... long enough that Jack started to get nervous.

Really nervous.

And then they stepped through.

Not one at a time, no, but all three of them, one massive, off-kilter, limping lump. Teal'c's expression gave away nothing, but the way he held his arm against his chest told Jack pretty clearly that it was broken, and he wondered idly if the Jaffa had ever actually broken a bone before. His other arm held up Carter, who looked... fine, if a little off-balance, and she, in turn, held Daniel. The archaeologist's right shin was bleeding pretty badly, and it, too, was definitely not sitting quite straight.

Before anyone could react – before the gate even shut off – Daniel grabbed the railing and disconnected himself from his team leader. "'Kay, I'm good," he muttered, leaning heavily against the steel.

"Great," Carter answered. "I'm out."

Jack didn't entirely know what that meant, but suddenly she seemed to melt before his eyes, slipping through Teal'c's arm and down to the ramp. Spinning a little, she let herself fall back, feet to where the puddle had been, head down, eyes closed. Unfortunately, that meant she couldn't actually see the amazingly Jaffa-like eyebrow raise that the general shot in her direction.

"Oh, yeah," she announced lightly. "That didn't help at all."

He couldn't help it; he let out a completely undignified snort. To make it worse, she not only heard it, she clearly identified it as belonging to him, and said, "Hi, sir."

The eyebrow went right back up as he started up the ramp. "Hi?"

"We had a little incident," Daniel said.

"Really?" It was a sight to see – Daniel and Teal'c stood to the sides of the ramp, Carter a perfect mirror between them, their feet all in a row. He knelt beside the one on the ground as the medical crew entered. "You okay, Carter?"

One somewhat hazy blue eye slid open. "Oh, I'm peachy, sir."

And then, to his confusion and a little bit of dismay... she giggled. Yes, Colonel Sam Carter, astro-wizard and soldier extraordinaire, let out a supremely girly sound in the middle of the Gate Room.

"Daniel," Jack accused gently as he limped from the ramp with the help of two nurses, "is she drunk?"

"No. She hit her head."

Well, that wasn't good. Doctor Carmichael knelt on her other side, penlight in hand. "Can you look at me, Colonel?"

"Don't wanna."

The general couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Open your eyes, Carter."

She did as she was told – with a ridiculously cute pouty expression – and the doctor flashed the light across them. "Inappropriate displays of emotion are a symptom of concussion, sir," he said.

Again, she laughed. "I've been concussed," she announced with far more glee than was probably necessary.

"Good job," he praised, giving her a solid pat on the shoulder. "Now, let's get you up."


	2. Chapter 2

It was a good hour before Jack made it to the infirmary to check on his (former) team. He ran across Teal'c first, sitting patiently on a cot.

"O'Neill," the alien greeted.

"Teal'c. How's the arm?" His friend still held it gingerly.

"The medical staff are repairing Daniel Jackson's leg. I am to be next."

Fair enough. "And Carter?"

"Her head injury is not believed to be serious, though she is to remain through the night," Teal'c said, pointing further into the infirmary with his good hand. "I was told she is sleeping but have not yet been permitted to see for myself."

And Teal'c always checked on his injured teammates personally, so Jack knew how irritating that was for him. "I'll look in on her," he promised.

He walked past a curtained area, shaking his head at the familiar voice that complained, "Ow. Ow. Are you done poking at it yet?" and continued to the last bay. They'd turned off the light above her bed, and his shadow crossed her face as he stepped up beside her.

She blinked slowly, half-asleep. "Sir."

"Carter. How's the head?"

"Mmm. Think I drank too much."

He chuckled. "Not exactly. I take it you're not the person to ask for a mission report, huh?"

"Mission," she murmured. "Oh. _Oh_." He'd heard her giggle – really, truly giggle – more in the last hour than in eight years. "We fell off the yellow brick road."

"What?" He wasn't really asking her to reiterate that; her explanation wouldn't make sense, anyway. He changed the subject. "You guys made quite the picture up there. Wish I'd had a camera."

She lifted an eyebrow with a yawn.

"Teal'c looked like a bear with a wounded paw, and Daniel was stumbling around against the railing. And you. Upside down."

"Ohhh," she declared with far too much vigor, mitigated only by a complete lack of physical energy. "The lion, the tin man, and the scarecrow!"

Huh? "Okay, the lion makes sense... and I guess I can see you as the scarecrow, but... the tin man? What, Daniel doesn't have a heart?"

"Sir," she insisted, her tone indicating clearly that what she was about to say explained everything, "I have a _concussion_."

"Right."

Her eyes watered from the fatigue and the yawning, and he probably should have let her sleep, but he just couldn't let that go yet. "Wait. If Teal'c is the lion and Daniel's the tin man and you're the scarecrow, who am I?"

"Thass easy, sir," she mumbled past a goofy, tired grin, her blinks getting longer and longer despite herself. "You're the wizard."

Surely his chest didn't visibly puff as much as he felt like it did. "Oh, yeah? How's that?"

"'Cause you get away with _everything_ ," she slurred, eyes closed and less than half-conscious. "Even though... you pull it all... out of your..."

Jack could do nothing but stare at her, shocked (and amused as hell), as the words ceded to mumbles and then silence. "Note to self," he told the air after a moment, "never ask Carter a question you don't want an honest answer to when she's concussed."

Shaking his head, he went to give Teal'c an update. He'd only made it a few feet, though, when Daniel crutched his way through the curtains. "Hey, Jack. How is she?"

Spunky verging on insubordinately cute? "Sleeping. She's still pretty out of it."

"I thought I'd sit with her awhile."

"Sounds good. I'll be staring cross-eyed at requisition forms," Jack quipped.

"Okay."

He tried. He really did. But he just couldn't let it go. After all, this had been a point of contention between the two of them for years. "Oh, and Daniel?"

"Yeah, Jack?"

"It's official. _I_ am the Great and Powerful Oz." Not Daniel. No matter what he said.

"Sam finally voted, huh?"

Jack nodded smugly.

"Then who am I?"

"Uh..." A paint-covered bumbling rust bucket with a hole in his chest?

And then a brilliant idea occurred to him. After all... he ought to share the entertainment, right?

"Ask Carter."


End file.
